


The pain of loving

by Darling_Pandora



Category: Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26560210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darling_Pandora/pseuds/Darling_Pandora
Summary: Lancelot had come a long way emotionally in the months since his arrival to the Fey camp, or so Gawain had thought.
Relationships: Gawain | The Green Knight & Squirrel | Percival (Cursed), Gawain | The Green Knight/The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed), Squirrel | Percival & The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	The pain of loving

“....... _and_ another thing, if your horse is _soooo_ clever, why does he so often get himself so damn dirty?” Percival asks, a terribly smug smirk pulling at his lips as the final of a very long string of questions regarding Goliath fall before Lancelot. He huffs out a laugh at the absurdity of the conversation, but he happily indulges the young Fey in his line of questioning. 

“Goliath is, I _assure_ you- a very clever beast, though I suppose he does lack good judgement when it comes to personal hygiene, something of which I _believe_ he has learnt from you......” Lancelot jokingly chides as he tries- and _fails_ to hold back a smirk at the total look of horror on Percival’s face.

“I can practically see the fleas jumping on you from here,” he continues with a laugh, “and now that only leaves me to wonder.... who gave who the fleas first, the horse..... or the-”

But before he could even finish his sentence, Lancelot finds the wind knocked out of his lungs as the full force of Percival rams into his side, tackling him into the ground in a chaotic bundle of arms and legs. 

“If _anyone_ has given your horse fleas, it’s _you-_ you..... _stinking_ ..... pile of....... _rat piss!”_ Percival hilariously attempts to insult him as creativity as possible whilst fighting and defending against the hands tickling him into submission. Though the younger Fey impressively seems to gain an upper hand in the scuffle as he decides to play dirty and jabs Lancelot hard in the side.

“Ouch! I yield!!” Lancelot laughs out loud as he holds his hands up, “I yield, have mercy- please!” he submits to the greater opponent. 

Percival laughs in triumph and makes to stand above the defeated Fey, “you’re as useless as your dumb horse,” he says, trying to keep a straight face, “but I _suppose_ that you are quite good company at times, so I guess I’ll accept your surrender, and will let you live another day,” he decides with a nod of the head. 

“Thank you, Sir Knight,” Lancelot replies with a beaming smile as he stands to dust himself off.

Gawain stands unnoticed but a few feet away from the two Fey in front of him, and finds that he is totally incapable of preventing the smile now gracing his face in response to the completely adorable scene unfolding before his eyes. 

He had made his way down towards the stables in search of Squirrel, knowing full well that the young Fey would undoubtedly be there; his growing attachment to one horse in particular being the main incentive for his current whereabouts, though the boy would never admit to it. Gawain had long noticed that Squirrel would more often than not tend to mock or lightly insult those that he liked or loved, rather than to admit his true feelings. He supposed that subconsciously, all the death and loss the boy had experienced undoubtedly made it difficult for him to fully embrace love and friendship for fear of it being ripped away from him again. 

Squirrel had begged him for a sword training session a good few days ago, and Gawain had promised to schedule him in the moment he found some free time- and after days of gentle nagging reminders from the boy, he had finally cleared a couple of hours in his afternoon with the intention of giving the boy his much desired session.

Gawain had jogged along towards the stables, but the growing sound of voices as he approached had him slow his pace. He came to an eventual halt when the owners of the voices came into view, frozen in place- he watched the adorable interaction between Lancelot and Squirrel. To see the both of them taking joy in one another’s company is a sight that really warms his heart.

Lancelot had been with them now a number of months, it had been long enough for the majority of the Fey within the camp to finally become used to his presence,- but still not quite long enough for the ex-monk himself to become used to theirs, or at least not long enough for him to be able to fully relax and feel comfortable around them.

In the rare moments such as these, where Lancelot was not surrounded by the people he once hunted and slaughtered for the church, he would appear to radiate a natural calmness, the tension in his shoulders would drop, his features would soften and his step would lighten ever so slightly. More often than not, these rare occasions occurred when Lancelot was in the presence of Squirrel, the boy obviously bringing out the best in him. 

But Gawain had made it his personal mission to work on bringing out this side of Lancelot as much as possible. He had long come to terms with the fact that he had feelings for the ex-monk, feelings that ran much deeper than just the simple attraction it had started out as. 

He had felt the first real wave of affection for Lancelot the very first time he had seen him smile. It had happened so simply, Squirrel had been chatting away to Lancelot, telling him of some story or another- when Gawain had heard Lancelot laugh out loud at something the boy had said. Without realising, Gawain had turned with a barely masked look of shock to see the pair giggling away. It should have been something so normal and natural to hear, but Gawain had suddenly realised that he had never until that moment heard Lancelot laugh, let alone seen him smile, and it had already been weeks since Lancelot’s arrival to the camp by that point. 

But Gawain had observed and learned over the following weeks, a multitude of things that actually made the ex-monk smile, and he was determined to use that knowledge to make it a daily occurrence. 

Shaking his head from his thoughts, Gawain moved round from the cover of the trees to come into view of the two Fey before him. 

“Green Knight!!” Squirrel called in usual excitement at his presence, “Is it time for my training yet?” he asks, getting straight to the point.

“Indeed it is,” he answers, and is pleased to see the joy that spreads on the boy’s face in response, “make your way over to the training ground, I will follow you over there in just a second,” he instructs.

Needing no time to even think twice, Squirrel dashes off from their sight, all the while slaying imaginary foes along the way with a dangerously sharp looking twig. 

Gawain hears Lancelot’s quiet laugh as he watches the boy go, “He is too brave for his own good,” Lancelot says quietly, “he cares deeply, but is always so desperate not to show it,” he continues, his smile slowly slipping and morphing into a look of concern. 

Gawain is rather shocked at how perceptive Lancelot seems to be when it comes to others feelings, especially considering that he himself trends to struggle with his own. The very first few weeks of his being within the camp, Lancelot had struggled with his own internal battle with his emotions. He had displayed an extremely unhealthy tendency towards punishing himself, ranging from denying himself food and sleep to physically damaging his own body. 

Not many had noticed, and even fewer had cared......but Gawain did. It had taken much time, and many emotionally draining conversations, and slowly but surely, Lancelot had come to trust Gawain, to trust in his words and believe in his friendship. 

Gawain turns to look at him now, he loves how clearly he can see the genuine affection for Squirrel painted so clearly on his face. Some within the camp still behaved with fear or suspicion around the ex-monk, never quite forgiving him for his past, still believing him to be nothing other than pure evil. But all Gawain can see as he looks at the other is someone who has never known true happiness, and eyes that betray more feeling than their owner would wish them to show. 

“He does feel deeply,” he finally says in response, “and he cares very much for you, it is lovely to see you both smile so much for a change.” 

To Gawain’s surprise, an unexpected blush crept is way to Lancelot’s cheeks at his words. The look suited him just as much as his smile did, Gawain thought to himself. 

“Come, you should join us for training,” he suggests in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Squirrel would revel at the chance of showing off his skills to the both of us.”

His suggestion seems to do the trick as Lancelot nods in agreement, the previous look of concern melting away to something much softer again. 

“Come,” he says clapping his hand around Lancelot's shoulder, only for him to wince away from the touch, an unexpected look of pain flashing across his face. 

Gawain’s arm freezes in it’s position in the air between them, though he moves it to an almost gesture of peace as he takes in the now totally closed off and distressed look radiating from Lancelot. It was a look he had become painfully familiar with, though he had not seen it from Lancelot in a long while now. 

Gawain watches as Lancelot visibly attempts to force his body to relax, taking a deep breath he lowers his eyes to the ground.

“Sorry, I uh......” 

“You are injured.....?” Gawain interrupts whatever sorry excuse Lancelot was about to spin, and watches the moment the Fey realises he’s been had. He doesn't think twice before once again closing the gap between them, gently placing his hands on the sides of Lancelot's arms and drawing the other’s eyes to his. 

His look says it all, Gawain can see the guilt pooling in his eyes, the same look he had always shown when he tried to cover up the hurts he used to cause upon himself for various different reasons. But Gawain thought they'd come a long way since then, it had taken a long while but Lancelot had made progress, had come to realise that he need not punish himself any more for his past..... or so Gawain had thought. 

He shakes his head as his heart gives a lurch of pain, to discover that Lancelot still believes that he needs to punish himself makes him want to scream. 

“Why have you done this,” he asks breathlessly, “what cause on this _earth_ would you still have to harm yourself?!” he demands loudly, but immediately regrets the tone of anger slipping into his voice as Lancelot finches slightly at his words. 

Lancelot nervously licks his lips, he steadies his breath as he finally draws his eyes to Gawain’s. “I feel an affection for another,” comes his surprisingly honest and rushed reply, “I cannot help it, my heart _begs_ me for their love- but I will not seek it, I will not burden them with my sin,” he all cries out toward the end. 

Gawain feels his stomach drop at the admission, not only does it pain him to hear that his suspicion was correct- that Lancelot had indeed once again harmed himself, but to hear that Lancelot was holding feelings for someone, and that someone not being _him_ made his heart selfishly sink. 

He attempts to guess the direction in which Lancelot's affection tended, and his mind brought him to think of Pym. She was really the only other person within the Fey camp that Lancelot had developed a really close relationship with other than with himself. Of course, he couldn't hold any hard feelings against this new development, Lancelot deserved to know love, to know the warmth and happiness it brings. He needed him to know that there was no sin in loving another- that it was natural and not worthy of punishing himself over.

He re-affirms his hold on Lancelot's arms, once again drawing the other's fallen gaze back to his. “It is not sinful to love another- I can _promise_ you that. Whoever she is that holds your heart is a damn lucky person, and I assure you, the last thing she would want was for you to be harming yourself over this.” 

Under any other circumstances, Gawain would have laughed at the total look of disbelief on Lancelot's face, but instead, he remains quiet as a thousand emotions pass through the eyes of the Fey before him.

“I..... it is no woman who I hold feelings for,” Lancelot says quietly as he takes a painfully deep breath, “it’s you.” 

And..... say _what?!_ He can't have heard that right, no, it couldn't _possibly_ be what Lancelot had meant, could it?! Though before he could find the words to ask, Lancelot is pulling out of his hold, his face betraying a look of pain as he swiftly backs away from Gawain.

“I’m sorry..... God I shouldn't, I _shouldn't_ have said that.....” Lancelot blurts out in panic, his voice hitting a pitch higher than usual. Gawain can visibly see his whole body start to shake in distress, and he knows that he needs to kick his brain into action, to prevent this situation from suddenly spiralling even further out of control. 

For the last few months, he had lived with- and come to terms with the knowledge that his feelings for Lancelot would not be reciprocated. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine Lancelot would be declaring his affections for him as he was right now. 

Gawain sees that Lancelot's grip on holding his panic at bay was wildly slipping, and he does the only thing he can think of to keep the Fey from fleeing from his presence. He takes two swift steps forward- closing the gap between them and firmly embracing the other as he draws Lancelot into a soft but grounding kiss.

When he pulls back, he desperately searches Lancelot’s face, praying to the hidden that he hadn’t made a mistake in what he’d just done. 

“I don’t understand,” Lancelot says catching his breath, and this time, Gawain doesn’t hold back his urge to laugh gently at the completely innocent look of confusion and _hope_ on Lancelot’s eyes. 

“Oh, was that kiss not clear enough for you.....?” he teases, and is sinfully delighted to see the return of a gentle blush to Lancelot’s complexion. 

“I had no idea that you felt this way, none at _all_ – otherwise I would have done that weeks ago....” Gawain tells the stunned Fey in front of him. “You are truly one of a kind,” he says with an affectionate smile as he brings his hand to softly caress the side of Lancelot’s face, fingers gently tracing the markings running down his cheeks. 

“I cannot bear the thought that you have harmed yourself over this, over _me,”_ he exclaims in hurt, “why..... why would you choose to do that to yourself instead of confiding in me?” Gawain begs to know.

“One man loving another is a sin, I did not want to risk dragging you into ridicule amongst your people,” Lancelot replies with an unsure tone, “I would rather suffer the crack of a whip than see you hated by those you love.” 

And Gawain’s heart shatters at the words he hears fall from Lancelot’s lips, “But I love _you,”_ he declares, “it is no sin- _believe me!_ And the very last thing I want is for you to do _this_ to yourself, please, Lancelot _promise_ me you will never harm yourself in this way again, not for me- not for _anyone!”_ Gawain says in desperation, hoping that his words sink in and have the desired effect. 

Lancelot stares wide eyed in shock right at Gawain, “I love you too....” he whispers as tears form in his eyes- begging to fall. 

Gawain smiles gently at the Fey in front of him as he pulls Lancelot in for another kiss, he holds him close and tries to pour all the affection he feels for the other into the embrace.

When they part for air, Lancelot smiles shyly, not quite meeting Gawain’s eyes as his face once again gains a blush.

“I am sorry for upsetting you, that was never my intention- I can assure you of that,” Lancelot says as he brings his hand up to caress Gawain’s face causing the other to now sport a blush of red on his own cheeks. Gods, he felt too old to be blushing like a damn teenager again. 

“Percival will be wondering where you are at if you do not show soon,” Lancelot reminds him, and Gods- his worry for Lancelot had caused him to almost totally forget. 

“Come,” he says once again, holding his hand out in invitation, and is whole heartedly pleased when Lancelot accepts his hand, taking it in his. 

Gawain knows that being in a relationship with Lancelot would undoubtedly be tough, that there was still a lot of healing the other needed to do, both physically and emotionally, but he was determined to be there for him- by his side, every step of the way.


End file.
